


Deuce and Devilry

by tungstenpincenez



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Jotunn Biology (Marvel), M/M, Mild Language, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 09:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tungstenpincenez/pseuds/tungstenpincenez
Summary: Sometimes, his genius surprises even Loki.  Of course, the fine line between genius and insanity...





	Deuce and Devilry

_Fífl_. Cockwombling Nidhogg. Thrice Norns-cursed nincompoop! How had he not thought of this sooner? It'd've been super helpful with the quadruplets. Stupid baby brain! 

If Loki’s body hadn’t been under such constant strain for the past few months, he’d smack himself silly for being such an idiot. Still, with yet another month to go before the imminent event, it was a good thing he’d thought of this. Now, how to do it…

He spent the next three days carefully weaving his spells. And the solution was obvious: pick a fight with Thor. Then, when the time was right, he could literally fling their unborn at his spouse and make him carry the burden for a while. A fortnight at the very least. Loki moaned at the mere thought of two weeks without back pains.

And, of course, he could never pass up an opportunity to cause a scene before the entire court. The force with which he hurled his pregnant belly at Thor caused his beloved to stagger onto the throne with a resounding thud. Loki stormed out of the room and made sure he rounded the corner before side-stepping into their rooms and collapsing with laughter at the shocked faces that stared after him. 

Sadly, God of Mischief though he was, of Good Fortune he most definitely was _not_. 

For one thing, Thor _loved_ being pregnant. And within twelve hours of his prank, Loki found himself at Thor’s beck and call. The foot rubs. The weeping pleas for cuddles. The weird cravings in the dead of night. I mean, really, pickled herring and ice cream? 

And it seemed pregnancy only enhanced Thor’s fertility powers. Where he found the _stamina_ … 

Loki hadn’t complained at first. He’d rather missed the intimacy, but when he was _summoned_ at all times of the day—often cornered in private niches around the palace—to pleasure his insatiable spouse, he sometimes thought he’d be better off suffering Thanos’ endless torments. No, that wasn’t really true, but he just needed a _break_. Thor was especially manipulative at night, where he loved getting on all fours on their massive bed and taken from behind. Loki’d had to reinforce the bed, not only to prevent collapse but to stop the wood from sprouting branches and young leaves (Fertility God, remember?). And a metal frame would never work. They made that mistake once. Thor nearly singed the hair off them both while canoodling in the guest room in Wakanda. The shock wave was felt even at the outermost edges of the city; it was a good thing Wakandan technology was sufficiently advanced that there’d been no short-circuiting.

And their unborn daughter seemed to revel in her new environs. Loki knew from the onset that she’d become a powerful mage. He was initially surprised that he carried a single child (it was a first), but when he realized her abilities, he knew that she would’ve smothered any competition _in utero_. Her power was so great that, by the time it reached maturation, she managed to bitchslap Hela into submission. (Of _course_ Hela didn’t die. Where do you think the phrase “one helluva bitch” comes from?) Hela even began paying tribute. Fine, it was only once every century, but hey, when you’re immortal, that adds up. And it was the same gift every time: a pearl-like bead of utter darkness. Their daughter was clever enough not to try them out and always carefully stored them in separate compartments and locations.

Early in his take-over of the pregnancy, Thor allowed their other kids to climb all over him, even getting onto the floor of the nursery to play, giving the Healers conniptions. The sprog convinced them to stop fussing by protecting herself when things got out of hand: she froze the lot on the spot. Only Loki’s soothing could release them from her grip. 

Perhaps because of their brief physical bond, this daughter became Thor’s favourite, his pride and joy. Thor nursed her as often as did Loki and could never hear a word against her. Though the ninth and youngest, she lead her siblings into all sorts of mischief. Even Uncle Tony threw up his hands in surrender. It was a good thing that nothing the children did could ever faze their mother. Loki had known from the moment when she forced herself back to his body, three days before her birth, that she would be a handful. 

And it was an especially difficult birth, perhaps because his body had gotten accustomed to being pain-free. Certainly, it was complicated by the fact that the babe had a link to her father, who was found doubled-over in the storeroom, where he’d always retreated during the birthing to get his mind from going stir-crazy by doing inventory and rearranging the shelves of foodstuff. After realizing that lifting the ban on the father’s presence in the birthing chambers was essential for the delivery, Thor was carried into the room and eventually witnessed their daughter’s entry into the world. She cried the loudest but he wept the hardest.

Finally, surrounded by their brood, having introduced the other kids to their baby sister, and the babe at breast suckling noisily, Loki paused to look at his family. He still had trouble believing that they belonged to him. That in spite all the wrong turns he’d made, he could still end up _here_. And contented. He nuzzled against Thor and felt a kiss to his forehead, the arms about him tighten. 

“Ew, what’s that smell?”

“Baby pooped!”

Loki sighed. Then handed the baby to her father.

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to [All's Fair in Love and Mischief](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13737234) and has sequel of [Thorough Flood, Thorough Fire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/15215873)
> 
> Fífl = idiot, fool


End file.
